Tuesday, 5 May 2015

On the burnt hill









Fresh new greens
And dead black
Blue black
Hump backed
Whale
Emerging from the green sea
Of trees and grazing

A boundary of houses fired to the edge
Red kite
Red against the velvet black
Hawking for carrion

Death is not far from us
Neither is life
The two play together
On the burnt interface.



Paul

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